


amidst the flowers

by nightingvle



Series: mahariel march [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Other, Pining, Pre-Dragon Age: Origins, merrill has no idea how to deal with her first crush, non-binary mahariel, she is just a baby sapphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightingvle/pseuds/nightingvle
Summary: Merrill doesn't understand why she feels this way around Mahariel, and Ashahra doesn't understand why she's avoiding them.
Relationships: Mahariel/Merrill (Dragon Age), Merrill/Warden (Dragon Age)
Series: mahariel march [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651615
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	amidst the flowers

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! this is for the prompt "before" for [mahariel march](https://twitter.com/witchesgonewild/status/1230648994981871618)!

The sun’s rays seep through the clouds, illuminating the forest clearing filled with flowers of all sorts. They are surely as happy to see the sunlight as a certain elf is to see them, for the moment Merrill pushes her way through the thicket, a bright smile is upon her face.

Her eyes eagerly scan each and every flower, searching for any hint of purple, and that’s when she spots them. Further away, shaded under a canopy of trees, lies a whole bundle of royal elfroot. At least, she believes that’s what they are. She’s never actually seen the herb for herself. They do seem to match Keeper Marethari’s description, but it would be best to be sure. This is the first quest the Keeper isn’t accompanying her on, and she’d hate to mess this up—to break the trust Marethari has finally placed in her.

Biting down on her bottom lip, Merrill hesitates for just a moment before glancing back at her companion, who’s only now making their way into the clearing. “Mahariel, look!”

“Hm?” 

“Over there, do you see?” She points, standing on her tip-toes as if that will help the other see better rather than herself. “Royal elfroot… I think.”

Her brows furrow together and she glances away, not daring to look at her companion. She hates the hesitancy in her voice, the unspoken question. She is to be Keeper someday and yet here she is, making a fool of herself, and in front of Mahariel of all people.

Leaves rustle and Merrill instinctively looks up to see Ashahra walking towards the herbs, head tilted as they peer at them. A gentle breeze passes through the forest, swaying the plant to the side and running through Mahariel’s silky white hair. Merrill can’t help but wonder what it would be like to run her own fingers through those locks. Would it feel as smooth and soft as putting your hand through a river stream? Or would it be coarse and rough, like the bark covering the trees?

A sigh escapes her lips and she thanks the creators that Ashahra is too far away to hear. 

After a brief moment of waiting, the other elf glances back and beckons her to come over with a small smile, one so kind and sweet it aches. Merrill doesn’t want kindness or sweetness from them. It makes her feel… odd. There’s too many confusing thoughts swirling around in her mind, ones she can’t decipher, and it frustrates her to no end. 

Distancing herself does nothing, even if Mahariel respects that distance. She once thought that would be the solution to it all, that perhaps she simply wanted nothing to do with them, but it only made matters worse. It felt like something was missing, and distance did nothing to stop Merrill from watching from afar. 

No, it doesn’t seem like distance is the answer for whatever it is she’s dealing with.

Taking slow steps forward, the girl follows in their footsteps, glancing curiously between Ashahra and the herbs. Ashahra only offers her another smile and waits for her to get closer before explaining at last.

“You were right,” they start. “This is royal elfroot.”

“Oh.” Her voice is quieter than she would like. She always feels so nervous in their presence, despite how calming they can be. “That’s… good.”

“It is only the color that’s dissimilar to the more common elfroot, which you noticed right away.” Their head tilts to the side as they regard her curiously. “Why did you doubt yourself?”

The question is enough to make even her thoughts go quiet, if for but a brief moment, as she takes it in. When they called her over here, that certainly wasn’t what she was expecting, though it shouldn’t be surprising given how perceptive they are. Her fingers tighten around the hem of her cloak.

“I… I was only making sure. We are on an important duty for the Keeper, after all.”

“If we happened to bring back the wrong herbs, she’d need only to send us back once more.”

“But it shouldn’t come to that.” Merrill’s voice is firmer now, the frustration that had been welling up inside only now coming out. “As the Keeper’s First, it’s my duty to protect this clan and learn from her. I’ve been given a rare chance and I _won’t_ mess it up.” She sighs. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Merrill—”

“We’ve found what we were sent here for. We should return to the Keeper.”

A slight frown appears on their face and Merrill quickly looks away, worried she will stare too long. Even now, they look beautiful and Merrill can’t help but wonder if this is what the creators would look like were they to take a mortal form. She bites her lip in nervousness once the thought crosses her mind, as if it was a confession of some sorts.

It’s not that she’s jealous. Really, she’s not, even if some of the others think she is. They’re gorgeous and that’s something Merrill can’t help but notice, but she doesn’t want to look like them. They’re just… nice to look at. And yes, most of the time she does feel frustrated over them, but it’s only because… well, truthfully, she doesn’t understand why, but it’s certainly not because of jealousy. That word doesn’t feel right to describe her feelings.

“Merrill,” they say again. “Can we talk? Now, while we’re alone?”

There’s this strange, fluttery sensation in her stomach upon hearing those words. Her cheeks feel warm, though the canopy shades them from the sun. She doesn’t understand any of this and the fingers gripping the hem of her cloak begin to twist.

“I—We should really be getting back. The keeper…”

Their frown deepens, only slightly, but enough for Merrill to notice and her voice trails off. The thought of being the cause of their sadness is enough to make Merrill’s chest tighten with guilt. 

“Fine,” she says instead. “What did you want to talk about?”

She had thought that would bring a smile to Ashahra’s face, to reassure them with whatever it is they’re worrying over. If anything, this only worries them more, for the frown remains and their body posture grows tense. 

“Have I done something?” They ask in such a hesitant voice, lowering to almost a whisper that it takes a moment for Merrill to hear them. “It… it just seems like ever since we met, you’ve been distant, around me specifically. And perhaps I’m looking too much into this, but I worry that I might have done something.”

Merrill’s fingers freeze amidst their twisting of her fabric, her eyes widening as her breath gets caught in her throat. Before Merrill had begun distancing herself, Ashahra would lead her to the hallas every night, tip-toeing through the grass so as not to disturb neither the creatures nor Maren. Though Merrill feared upsetting the Keeper by sneaking about, she couldn’t dare say no. Not when the sight of those creatures brought such a joyous smile upon the other’s face, one that could light even the darkest of nights. And, well, she has to admit. It was a bit exciting.

They did get caught eventually, just not by Maren nor the Keeper. For despite their careful approach and light-footed steps, they could not account for every obstacle.. One night, they had been approaching a halla a bit further away from the rest, sleeping soundly upon their pillow made of grass, when Merrill happened to step on a dried up leaf and winced as it crunched under her foot. The halla awoke, eyes wild and searching, when they spotted them. The three of them stood there for a moment, frozen in time and memory, before the halla eventually fled to the others.

Merrill imagines her face looks a lot like that halla’s in this moment.

“N-no,” she eventually says, stumbling over her words. “It’s… not that.”

“Then what?”

Her brows furrow together. That is a question she has asked herself countless times, and yet the answer always seems to escape her. It’s not resentment or anger, no. Ashahra has done nothing wrong and that longing she feels when they’re gone is enough to make her believe it can’t possibly be anything resembling that. It isn’t jealousy, though they are beautiful. She’s pondered that before and realized long ago that word doesn’t feel quite right. 

_Then what_?

Her eyes trail down to their lips, pursed as they wait for an answer that Merrill can’t possibly come up with. The image of running her finger over those lips like she wishes she could do with their hair passes through her mind and her cheeks grow warmer. They can’t hear her thoughts, can they?

Her gaze flits to their hair and that single braid she wishes she could undo, to feel their usually straight hair curl between her fingers, and then to their searching eyes which seem to dawn with realization all at once. There’s something behind that look, something Merrill feels is reflected within herself though she does not yet know what that is. A part of her considers looking away, to break this moment between them, but she finds herself looking within their eyes as if in a trance, unable to turn away. 

They lean closer and closer, until Merrill ceases to breathe. Another breeze passes between them now, blowing strands of Ashahra’s hair as if playing with the strings of a lute. They smile, and Merrill feels all light go through her. How can one person be so beautiful? She finds herself wondering again and again, until it is the only thought she hears. 

A hand comes up to further warm Merrill’s cheek, and she finds herself melting into their touch. Something inside of her flutters at the touch and she has to resist the urge to toy with her cloak. Instead, she looks into their eyes, searching again for something she’s already found reflected in herself, but still doesn’t know the answer to. There is something else to their look, however, something… hesitant, as if there’s some unspoken question lingering in the air. Merrill only nods and watches as relief washes over the other.

Then, Ashahra’s eyes shut and their lips are parting before they lean even closer, close enough for their lips to graze her own, like a flower petal against her skin. Merrill finds herself mirroring the gesture, mouth parting as she waits, and that’s when they kiss.

Their lips are soft and taste faintly like honey, sweet and addictive, for one taste is not enough. Oh, Merrill thinks.

_Oh_.

She can’t believe she didn’t realize sooner but now that she has, she never wants to let them go. She places both hands against their cheeks, wishing for them to melt into each other’s touch, and leans closer and closer until they’re toppling over and rolling across the meadow.

Ashahra giggles against her lips and she can’t help but do the same, until they’re laughing too much to continue kissing. The two lie on their backs, sun beaming down upon them, their hands entwined together as joyous smiles spread across their faces.

When at last, the laughter ceases and they’re able to breathe again, they find themselves staring at one another, each taking the other in. Ashahra has this look of adoration upon their face as they look into her eyes, and Merrill feels her smile widen. 

“Mmm,” Ashahra eventually says, snuggling up to her and wrapping a long arm around her torso. “Let’s stay like this forever.”

Merrill sinks into their touch, eyes closing to block out the beating sun. 

“That would be nice,” she agrees, and smiles at the thought.


End file.
